Chosen (The Warrior Chronicles, 1) (34 page)

“Did you doubt before now?”

Shanti shrugged. When you were near death half the time, and getting into trouble the other half, it was hard to properly assess the leader of a prosperous city. But now, in a time of peril, away from protective walls and early morning raids, she had a chance to take notice.

As Cayan
came to rest beside their small party his gaze scanned Shanti’s body, probably looking for wounds. Not seeing any he turned his attention to Sterling. “Report.”

“Shanti thinks there are citizens—“

“He knows what I do,” Shanti interrupted in the interest of time.

The Captain turned to the young man on his right. “Bring up Leilius.”
To Shanti he said, “Any reason to believe these people have your coloring?”

“Leilius would stick out like a tree among bushes if so,” she said with a smile. “But no. The Inkna are from near my neck of the woods, but their people wouldn’t be farming out here. They probably moved in and took over, similar to what they are trying to do with you. Whoever was here first still works the land. So…”

The Captain nodded. Apparently the coloring was bronze skin and dark hair, like him. It was a hot climate, so that made sense. Natural sunblock prevented constant sunburns. She should know, she had to be covered most of the time.

Leilius skulked up a few minutes later, looking sheepish and happy to see Shanti. He didn’t feel like he belonged in this battle
-hardened crew twice his age. Shanti understood where he was coming from, but he was just about to earn a reputation, whereas she never would. She didn’t know if that was a blessing or a curse.

“Leilius, I need you to change into poor man’s clothes and travel up the road,” the Captain said without preamble. “Blend in. Find out everything you can. If you get into trouble I will know. Go.”

Leilius got changed with a fearful glower and took off at an easy walk, seemingly an average boy going to market. Shanti got caught in a moment of panic as his slouch carried him down the road, away from her protection. His thin body bent like a reed in a gale as he trudged, fearful but observant. He was ready for this—he needed to learn to operate on his own—but he was so young. Shanti still owed him for her life, but more than that, he and her Honor Guard were as close to friends as she had in this strange land. They were shining lights in a year of solitary darkness. Even Sanders, as much as he raged and bickered, was someone she cared for. Was someone she wanted to see safe behind his large stone walls. She was so afraid she’d lose someone else she cared about it choked her, closed her throat until sweat beaded her forehead. She pushed the feelings down, trying to get control, and felt a pulse of relief ping through her body.

It was Cayan trying to ease her mind. He was about as deft as a deaf man learning to sing, but the thought of it did help. She wasn’t a mother bird, and she needed to remember that
this was a war. There would be casualties. She needed to stay focused.

If they killed
Cayan, though, she would tear that city down around their knees without mercy. If they had killed Sanders, same result. Then she’d beat them bloody with their own limbs.

“Easy
mesasha,
” Cayan murmured.

Shanti took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Hope and wait.

It was two hours
before Leilius came back up the road, a dead bird clutched by the feet hanging at his side. As he approached, his slouch more prominent, he handed up the large fowl in embarrassment.  “I was offered this by a woman trying to marry me off to her daughter.” He shrugged. “She was pretty but older.”

Cayan’s gaze was
calculating as he motioned for someone to take the wedding bribe. “What did you find out?”

“The Inkna aren’
t well liked. I was told to think twice before moving closer. They killed the old government and started making changes right away.” Leilius dug his hands into his pockets. “The farmers are nearly starving, the working man is little more than a slave, and the foreign people are rich. Those that are beautiful, or gifted in a necessary craft, are doing well, though, so no one has tried to kick the Inkna out.”

Cayan ignored the young man’s hands.
“Could you see the city walls?”

“I went in. That’s what took me so long. There is a large metal gate. Inside
—“

“The gate is up?” Sterling asked.

“Um, yeah. A couple guys are—“

“Details, please,” Shanti said in a low tone.

Leilius straightened and took his hands out of his pockets. He probably thought Shanti was going to kick him. Cayan gave her a brief glance before Leilius focused once again. “Two men on each side, but lazy. Inkna—they are light and small—but they are bored. I don’t think they get much action. And inside there is a large area with traders stalls. If that gate were to close, there are a few places to sneak in, but only for a few at a time. That gate has to be open for us to get through with enough to pose a problem for their guards. They all have wicked looking swords and beady eyes.”

“Are the guards
inside our coloring or Shanti’s?” Sterling asked.

“They are all Inkna. Small but maybe fast. Just like the ones that came into our city.
A few loiter around the trading stalls, making trouble for the younger girls.” Leilius’s jaw clenched briefly before he went on. “A few dot the walls, and others wander around the inside of the city.”

“Are
any outside?” Lucius asked with a focused stare, leaning forward on his mount.

Leilius shook his head. “Only those originally from this land are outside. They would scatter if we came through. Or take up arms with us.
They really aren’t happy. Desperate, too. That girl’s mother wanted me to take her daughter away back to my land. I look poor, but she still wanted me to take her.”

“You only look poor for your country. Those rags are made from new fabric with holes cut in them,” Shanti muttered.
“Someone actually poor can tell the difference.”

Caya
n looked at the sun, deciding.

“Sanders doesn’t have much time,
” Leilius said quietly. The Captain let slip a blast of power. When Leilius stopped cowering, he said, “I heard rumors that four soldiers were originally taken, but one died. One captured soldier in particular was giving the guards a hard time, and the guards were giving them all they had. It sounded like Commander Sanders. He doesn’t have long, though. The local people are shaken. There’s screaming.”

The Captain’s blu
e eyes glowed slightly. Power wrapped around him in tight bands, flirting with Shanti’s power, gathering might. “Then we go now. It means we will be running home in the dark, but if we wait until morning, my men might be dead.”

“We won’t need to run home. There won’t be anyone left to chase
us,” Shanti said in a voice she hardly recognized.

A few men looked at her with wide eyes. They’d just remembered the girl
who laid waste to a tide of Mugdock. She was brimming with power and anger, ready to unleash her wrath and give a town back to the people that rightfully owned it.

At the Captain’s command everyone mounted. He reached a hand down for Shanti.

“No,” she said, meeting his sky blue eyes, hopefully not for the last time. “I need to be first and on foot. When they see us coming they are going to come at us with every
Warring
mind they have. Or whatever they have that’s similar. I need to be on foot for that. Plus, I am going to inspire some townspeople to take up arms.”

The Captain looked at her a long time before he said, “Stay alive.”

She winked, excitement bubbling. With a manic grin that would make Sanders proud, she turned and started running.

The Inkna had stole
n her home and killed those she loved. It was time for revenge.

Leilius saw S’am starting to walk and fell in beside her, caught up in her presence like a small ship in a giant wave. He didn’t want to file back in with everyone else; they snickered at him constantly, wondering if they would have to play nursemaid to the boy in soldier’s clothes.

It must have looked odd, a young man and a woman, walking in front of a team of horses, a small army at their backs. But if she worried, she didn’t show it. Head held high, long braid the color of wheat swinging behind her, S’am drew her sword in one clean, practiced movement. A thrill coursed through Leilius, ending in a tingle at the base of his balls. The adrenaline was kicking in. Soon he would have to fight. Kill people probably. It was necessary, though—he couldn’t have the Inkna ruin his home and turn his friends into slaves—but he hated killing. Even in revenge for what they were doing to Sanders.

The busy intersection lay ahead, teaming with farmers and their live
stock, desperate mothers and fathers trying to trade for enough food to feed their families. The road they were on intersected another, each corner replete with stands of fruit, grains, or merchandise, all gathered in the hard packed dirt. Faces looked up in alarm and surprise, eyes taking in the approaching war men with their rich clothes and furnishings.

Leilius had never been so embarrassed
in all his life, even in the rags he wore. He hadn’t realized he had so much. He’d never known what it was like to go a day without food, or to wear the same slips of fabric for months on end. These people had nothing, and here he walked, the richest man alive in their opinions, with nothing to show for it.

It
had taken a trip into the city to realize exactly what S’am had always grumbled about. He had been instantly humbled.

S’am swung her long, curved blade
. The people standing by the sides of the roads caught that gleam, entranced by the wicked beauty of it. Their gaze rose slowly to hers, fear and hope warring on their countenance.

“My people were killed by the Inkna,” Shanti boomed as she slowed, standing in the center of the small square. Cayan halted the progression behind her, drawing notice, strong and straight on his purebred stead. Leilius felt absurd standing close to these two, but he straightened his back nonetheless, S’am infusing his body with the buoyancy of certain victory.

“They were murdered in cold blood while protecting children. While protecting the elderly. Because we would not surrender our
way of life to their schemes. And now they have captured and tortured my friends.”

Her v
oice trailed away, gathering the silence to her, captivating those standing and staring. No one dared move.

“You, townspeople, are safe,” she went on,
as a strange feeling crept into Leilius’s body. “You will not be hurt. You can go back to your homes now without worry. Or…you can fight back. You can reclaim your freedom by your own hands, with your own blades. Fight with us, or run to safety. Either way, we are friends.”

Leilius raised his head and looked around in wonder. He felt…exhilarated. Like he could rule the world. Like he could take up his blade, like she said, and reclaim what was his! It wasn’t even his,
aside from Sanders, but he felt like he should fight for it anyway! And he
would
!

“Fight
!”

It took a second to realize that
the ecstatic voice was his own. Gazes turned to him now, matching his euphoria. Wanting a piece for themselves. Shedding uncertainty, he put his sword in the air, pumping it high as he said again, “Fight!”

Men started to smile. Women stood, clutching their children, the hard light of hope kindling in their eyes.

“Fight!” The crowd started to chant with him. “Fight!”

Swords appeared from behind stands, knifes from under bags of grain.

“Fight!”

“We go!” Shanti yelled, stepping forward, Cayan immediately behind. Her eyes we
re glowing a soft violet; the Captain’s shone a pale blue.

“Fight
!”

She was walking through them now
, staring straight ahead, a fierce battle Captain at her back.

“To war!” the Captain boomed in his deep, commanding voice.

“FIGHT!”

Shanti projected a feeling of
security
as she walked, only enough to entice the most ardent in their vengeance
.
It was delicate and well laid. Eyes were bright as they looked at her, but then gazes shifted upward. Eyes went wide.

Shanti didn’t have to turn around to
know what they were looking at. Cayan, with his hair pulled back and secured at the nape of his neck, sat atop his horse like a bronze statue of power. He embodied his position and the power that went with it. He was just and right, a sword of death in his hand, heading into battle.

He was upstaging her and it was slightly irritating.

Leilius yelled again, pumping his sword, looking around the crowd, their ringleader. She’d accidentally caught him up in her net, but it was the exact thing these people needed. Someone on their side, looking nearly like themselves, ready to reclaim what was their right.